The Body Snatchers Affair Read Online Free Page A

increased the likelihood of violence between the Chinese factions, but once the city’s yellow journalists fanned the flames with their usual inflammatory zeal, there was the serious threat of retaliation by police raiders and mobs of Barbary Coast and Tar Flat toughs.
    All of Chinatown, in short, might soon be a powder keg with a lighted fuse. And Quincannon, like it or not, was now caught up in it.

 
    3
    QUINCANNON
    He used a police call box to report the whereabouts of the lawyer’s corpse, left before the coppers arrived and coroner’s wagon came to claim the body, and made his way directly to the Hall of Justice.
    He disliked dealing with the city’s constabulary; he’d had a number of run-ins with individuals of one rank or another who did not care to have their thunder stolen by a private investigator who was better at their jobs than they were. There was also the fact that police corruption had grown rampant in recent times. Not long ago there had been a departmental shake-up in which several officers and Police Clerk William E. Hall were discharged. Chief Crowley claimed all the bad apples had been removed and the barrel was now clean. Quincannon, however, remained more than a little skeptical.
    But in this case, with James Scarlett murdered and a tong war a very real threat, he had no choice but to communicate what he knew and what he suspected. Not that he intended to work in consort with the police, even if Crowley would have allowed it. The murder of a man in his charge was not only a failure of professional responsibility but a personal affront, as was the possible attempt on his life tonight. He owed satisfaction to both his client and to himself, and that meant conducting an investigation of his own.
    The Hall of Justice, an imposing gray stone pile at Kearney and Washington Streets, was within stampeding distance of the Chinese Quarter. Ten minutes after his arrival there, he was in the company of Chief Crowley, fortunately working late on this night, and two other ranking officers in the chief’s private office.
    One of the men he knew well enough, even grudgingly respected; this was Lieutenant William Price, head of the Chinatown “flying squad” that had been formed in an effort to control tong crime. He had mixed feelings about Crowley, and liked Sergeant Louis Gentry, Price’s assistant, not at all. The feeling was mutual; Gentry made no bones about his distaste for flycops. But he seemed less contentious than usual tonight, evidently because of the gravity of the situation. The imminent danger of a bloody tong war was too great for personal feelings to interfere.
    The three listened to Quincannon’s tersely told tale without interruption and, for once, there were no hostile comments about his involvement in a criminal matter. The chief did demand the name of his client, and while he disliked revealing confidential information, the circumstances here dictated that he continue to be reasonably candid. Openly refusing to cooperate would be counterproductive.
    â€œScarlett’s wife, eh?” Crowley said. He was an overweight sixty, florid and pompous. Politics was his game; his policeman’s instincts were suspect, in Quincannon’s view, a lacking which sometimes led him to rash judgment and action. “Hired you for what reason?”
    â€œHe hadn’t been home in two nights, and naturally she was concerned and wanted him found.”
    â€œAfraid something might have happened to him?”
    â€œEither that, or he’d gone off on a hop binge of longer than usual duration. Something had been bothering him lately, had him on edge and fearful.”
    â€œSomething to do with the Hip Sing?”
    â€œMrs. Scarlett doesn’t know.”
    â€œOr does know, and is keeping the knowledge to herself?”
    â€œDoesn’t know.” She’d been vehement in her denial and Quincannon believed her. “She’s aware of her